Punish the Wicked
by WDrusillaP
Summary: Emaleth Morlet was just a normal girl until the murder of her beloved father. As she spirals into a depression her mother's behavior becomes more and more erratic...
1. In The Beginning

1 Punish the Wicked  
  
2  
  
3 In The Beginning  
  
4 Ever since I can remember, I have always felt like I didn't belong here. I don't know exactly what I mean when I say here, whether it be on this earth or in my home, if you can even call it that. I have lived my entire life in a mansion on First Street in the Garden District of New Orleans. My family is what you would call rich. Okay, I take that back, we're filthy rich. My great-great grandfather Philippe Morlet built our mansion, which we call Morlet Hall, in 1851. Morlet Hall is a sprawling Greek revival mansion. It has these really cool columns like you would see in ancient Greece. The streets are lined with beautiful oak trees and in our yard we have this really big oak tree I always used to sit under when I was lonely. I still am lonely a lot. When I was very young and my father was still alive I was never lonely. I had more friends then I could keep track of. When Daddy would come home at five o'clock he would open up the door and cry out, "Bonjour ma amours!" For those of you who don't speak French, that means 'hello my loves.' When I heard those magical words a smile would appear on my face and I would launch myself into his arms and greet him merrily. My mom would suddenly appear behind us with a smile on her face, after Daddy put me down she would walk over to him and he would kiss her. Now me being the child that I was, I had no desire to see my parents kiss, so I would wander off and return to whatever it was I was doing before daddy got home.  
  
5 One day Daddy never came home. Mother had been jittery all day and when five o'clock came and went she almost went into a panic. I told her that he was probably just running late she had stopped pacing looked at me and nodded her head, but she went on pacing. When nine o'clock came around and Daddy still wasn't home, Mommy called the police. I remember she had yelled at them when they told her they had to wait for 24 hours until the person could be declared missing. She hung up the phone, sat down in a chair and cried.  
  
6 I don't really remember much about the week that followed; I walked around in a daze. I do remember that nine days after Mother had filed the missing persons alert they found my father's body in a swamp. My father's body was badly decomposed but they found signs of foul play. The autopsy showed that he had received blows to the head with a blunt object. My father's murderer was never found and I was never the same after that. I lost my smiles and my friends. They slowly started to turn against me. Going from a social butterfly to a social leper did not help my depression and I tried to kill myself at the age of 15.  
  
7 One day after a run in with Rebecca Crawford, a stupid twit who thinks she's all that because she slept with two guys on the varsity football team, she started laying into me about how I was a has been, it hit a sore note with me. I came home looked at myself in the mirror, and I didn't like what I saw. I slammed my fist through the glass to shatter the image and as strange as this may sound the pain made me feel better. I took one of the shards of fallen glass and I slashed open my wrists. As I lay on the bathroom floor a feeling of peace swept over me; I was so happy it was going to end. A maid took that opportunity to walk in. I don't remember her coming in because I had already lost consciousness. When I woke up I was in the hospital and my wrists were bandaged. They put me on Prozac, which I am now addicted to and I had to go to therapy.  
  
8 I remember my mother coming in looking very worried and asking a nurse that was attending to me if she could have a minute alone to talk to her daughter. The nurse had nodding saying to make it brief and had left. The second my mom closed the door the worry had melted off her face and she had charged over to my bed and looked down at me. I was so confused be her actions but that confusion turned to the deepest hurt I had ever experienced, besides when my father died. She told me that I was a disgrace. She went on to rant about how I should be ashamed of myself for putting her in this position. Turns out that she had lied to everyone and told them I was in the hospital due to a kitchen accident. I never forgot or forgave her. Father's death affected Mom in a strange ways. She became deeply religious (she claims she had a spiritual awakening), and she became colder too. The mother I used to know would never have talked to me the way she did that day in the hospital. That's why I'm the way I am now I guess. An outcast hooked on Prozac. 


	2. Oh Boo-hoo

1 Oh Boo-hoo  
  
2 Now I know what you're thinking, 'Oh no, poor little rich girl,' but its not like that. That was all a couple of years ago. I haven't tried to off myself since then. I've been a good little girl. My mom doesn't see it that way though. She only sees the bad stuff. I remember one time the cops brought me home for being intoxicated, and she just went psycho. The poised Constance Morlet was suddenly red with furry, (this was of course after the cops left) her nostrils actually flared. At first it was just the usual stuff, I'm a disgrace, I'm an evil child, but then she said something that made my blood run cold, she said that I was just as bad as my father. I remember that it was that comment that ruined my buzz. I looked at her and was about to scream all the mean words that I could think of, just to hurt her as she had so often hurt me, but the words never left my mouth because she had slapped me. Tears had sprung up to my eyes as I looked at her. My mother had never slapped me or intentionally hurt me, not in a physical way at least.  
  
3 "I want you to go to your room and stay up there until I say you can come back down, I'll excuse you from school tomorrow. The last think I need is for everyone to see you stumble around with a hangover. Now go up to your room."  
  
4 I had decided it would probably be a good idea to just do what she said. I had never seen my mom this mad before. I went upstairs to my room and fell asleep.  
  
5 The next day I woke up with a terrible headache. After puking my brains out I went downstairs to get some tea. At first I thought Mom wasn't home but as I was making my tea I heard voices coming from the study. I crept towards the wall that separated the kitchen from the study. At first I didn't hear anything but then I suddenly heard the somewhat muffled, yet rather distinctive voice of my grandmother.  
  
5.1 "Constance you need to stop being so hard on the child. The reason she acts this way is because she is hurting inside, she hasn't been well since the death of her father. The only thing your screaming will accomplish is to drive her farther away from you. Is that what you want Constance, is it?" Grandmother asked with a defeated tone in her voice.  
  
"What I want, Mother, is a good child, a child who doesn't constantly try to embarrass me. But I don't know if I'll ever have that with Emaleth. She is sullen and spiteful, why else would she act so rebellious? Can't you see? She is doing this to get back at me for God knows what!" mother said in a desperate voice.  
  
"Constance, have you ever stopped to think that maybe this isn't all about you? Emaleth suffered a great trauma when her father died. For God's sake, she tried to kill herself, she al--"  
  
My mother immediately whispered something I couldn't quite make out. "You call it what you will Mother, but she is an ungrateful brat."  
  
"For your own sake, and for your daughter's sake I hope you learn the error of your ways before they become too much for you to handle, and what of Vincent? He is coming today, have you even told Emaleth yet?" Grandmother said  
  
"I didn't feel the need. I was going to tell her yesterday, but she came home too drunk to make out a clear sentence." Mother said. "Well then, I'd better go tell her the news, besides she has slept in long enough."  
  
I could hear them getting up and panic ran through me. I dashed up the back stair way and just hoped I could make it to my room without them knowing I had already been out and about. I ran into my room and threw myself under the covers. I tried to slow my breathing as I heard them approaching my bedroom. My mother gave a brief knock then entered my room.  
  
"Rise and shine, out of bed and down in the sitting room in five minutes," she said with a look of disapproval. She closed the door, and I waited till I could no longer hear the click of her heels on the floorboards till I got out of bed.  
  
I got dressed as fast as I could, but decided to slow down a bit after falling over trying to get my jeans on. When I came downstairs my mother and Grandmother were waiting for me. I took a seat on the couch and looked expectantly at my mother then my grandmother.  
  
"Emaleth, the reason I called you down here is to tell you about your uncle Harold. He died yesterday in a car accident. As you know he was married to your late Aunt Elizabeth. His son, Vincent, is going to come live with us. Now even though Vincent is not blood related, your grandmother and I are the only family he has, so please make him feel welcome," Mother said, then stood up having finished her little speech.  
  
I just sat there in a state of shock. I knew very little of Vincent, and we had never meet. It was sort of sad, really. Mom and Aunt Elizabeth had had a falling out shortly after Aunt Elizabeth had married a divorced man with a son named Vincent. Aunt Elizabeth had died about two months after Father's death and it had been pretty hard on Mom. It always seemed strange to me that I had never met Vincent or Harold. I didn't go to Aunt Elizabeth's funeral due to my father's death and the depression that followed.  
  
"Is anything wrong child? You look a little pale," my grandmother asked giving me worried look.  
  
"Its nothing," I said rather curtly, and even though I didn't want to show it I was pretty curious about Vincent. "Grandma, what do you know about this Vincent guy?"  
  
"Well," she said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, "You two are a lot alike. You're both moody, sullen, and a tad bit introverted. I think the two of you will be good for each other. You can't help but interact, and you both have suffered a terrible loss, you both lost a father, and the poor dear also lost his stepmother. God only knows where his real mother is!"  
  
Grandma stood and gave me a reassuring smile before leaving the room. I sat alone for a while mulling everything over. It would be pretty cool to have someone around besides my mother and grandmother. I went upstairs and got ready for the day. 


	3. New Arrivals

1 New Arrivals  
  
A day had never crept by so slowly before. Breakfast and lunch both passed by without a sign of Vincent, but shortly before dinner there was a knock at the front door. I was the closest so I answered it. I opened the door to find myself face to face with a woman who introduced herself as Ms. Holt. I looked past her at who must have been Vincent. He appeared to be about my age, and had on a pair of slacks, a button down shirt, and sunglasses that looked very 007 on him. I invited them both in and showed them to the sitting room where Mother and Grandmother were having a cup of tea. Mother and Grandmother both sat up and greeted Ms. Holt and Vincent. Mother signed some papers, then Ms. Holt left.  
  
Grandma wasn't lying when she said that Vincent was slightly anti- social. After mother excused us, I showed Vincent to his room. In the half an hour he had been here, I had yet to hear Vincent speak. The first thing I did when we got to his room was to try to start a conversation.  
  
"So, do you like the place?" I asked motioning toward the room.  
  
Vincent shrugged his shoulders and went back to unpacking. This just made me more determined to actually get him to talk. "Are you still in school?" Once again he answered with a nod. 'What grade are you in?" I asked, a small smile forming on my lips.  
  
Vincent started to nod but it must have hit him that you can't answer that question with a simple nod. "I'm a senior," he said then went pack to unpacking.  
  
"It talks!" I exclaimed as I dramatically clutched my chest and smiled.  
  
Vincent turned around and smiled at me. "Yes," he said. "I can talk. Sorry if I'm not very talkative right now it's just this is all a little new," he said gesturing to the room.  
  
"You poor thing," I said with a small frown. "You do know what this means don't you?"  
  
"What?" he said looking slightly confused.  
  
"Mom is going to make you go to Whitefern, I'd almost guarantee it." Doing my best impersonation of my mother, I said in strict voice, "No one in this household will go to one of those public schools, can you imagine what people might say!" I finished giving a small bow but then said in a serious voice, "Sorry, but you have a first class ticket to high school hell at Whitefern."  
  
"I remember my friends and I would always make fun of the kids who went there, now I'm going to be one of them," he said, showing his obvious dread.  
  
We talked a little more and about three hours later I snuck into my room and fell asleep. 


	4. Something Bitchy This Way Comes

Something Bitchy This Way Comes  
  
1 I woke up in a chipper mood and took a shower and dressed quickly. I walked into the kitchen to see that Vincent had beaten me downstairs and was already eating his breakfast. I sat down and ate breakfast. After I finished I put my bowl in the sink, as did Vincent. We had already decided to take my car because parking was tight. When we got to school I showed him around the building. We were walking down the hall when Rebecca Crawford, the bitch from hell, walked around the corner and the second she saw me a self confident grin spread across her face.  
  
"Em, its soooo good to see you today, I wasn't sure you'd be here due to your little run in with the cops… again. It was really smart not to come yesterday. The last thing anyone wants is to see you puke all over the place."  
  
"Becca, didn't think I'd see you around due to the extreme embarrassment with what's his name, there have been so many, oh yeah, wasn't his name Beau Hudson? Something about a bicycle pump…" I said, a small smile spreading across my face.  
  
"Who told you about that?" Rebecca said in a weird mixture between a scream and a whisper.  
  
"Beau told a few friends about what a freak in the sack you are, and they told some of their friends, and voila!" I said with a smirk. "But hey, its not all lost, at least you're one step closer to your goal of sleeping with every single guy on the football team, no matter the cost, be it some of the weirdest kink I have ever heard about."  
  
Rebecca just stood there, obviously defeated. In an attempt to save some face she said in a cruel voice, "At least my mother hasn't all but disowned me." That said she spun on her heals and walked away.  
  
"Wow," Vincent said. "I thought the catfights at my old school were bad." He turned and looked at me and he must have seen the hurt expression on my face that I was trying desperately to hide. "She just said that to hurt you. It doesn't mean anything."  
  
"She was right." I said in a small voice. Just then the one-minute bell rung. "I have to go to class. Your first class is just around that corner second door on the right side," I said refusing to look him in the eye. I quickly walked to my class. 


	5. Fallen

1 Fallen  
  
That night I had a nightmare. I already knew my mom hated me, but in the nightmare everyone did, Grandma, Vincent, the few friends I had, and Daddy too. That was the worst part, the thought of daddy hating me. He said so many mean, degrading things. I woke up to find Mother sitting on the edge of my bed.  
  
"You're just like your father," she said in a monotone voice. "God sees everything. All the wicked things you do, God saw all the wicked things your father and Elizabeth did and look where they are. God will take care of everything. God will punish the wicked."  
  
"Mommy what do you mean, why are you talking like that," I whispered, scared out of my mind.  
  
"Your father got what was coming to him, Emaleth. God works in mysterious ways, sometimes he sends a lowly servant to do his dirty work. Don't test me Emaleth, now be a good girl and go back to sleep." 


	6. Punish the Wicked

Punish the Wicked  
  
When I woke up the next morning the house was strangely silent. I wasn't sure if Mother's midnight visit had been a nightmare, I hoped it was.  
  
I got dressed and went downstairs to get a cup of coffee and a bagel. I ate alone, a sense of doom overwhelming me and causing me to lose my appetite. I went upstairs to see if Grandma was awake. As I walked through the hall I thought I heard a scratching noise, which spooked me even more then I already was. I opened the door to Grandma's room and bit my fist to keep from screaming. Grandmother was hanging from the ceiling fan her feet scraping against a stool. While the method of death screamed suicide, the scene didn't. It was obvious there had been a struggle, and the claw marks around Grandma's throat that were obviously made in an attempt to loosen the noose were a testament that this was not a suicide. On Grandma's Vanity mirror was written 'Punish the Wicked.'  
  
I closed the door and ran back into my bedroom. I picked the phone up off my vanity to find a busy signal. I hung it up and slipped across the room into Vincent's room. He appeared to be sleeping but I knew he wasn't. He had been knocked out and tied to his bed. I walked over to the bed and quickly started to undo his bindings while trying to wake him. It was no use, he was out, and I soon knew why when I spotted the small hypodermic needle lying on the nightstand.  
  
I slowly walked down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. I had just reached the bottom when something heavy and blunt struck me in the back of the head. The last thing I saw before I passed out was my mother, her hair wild with blood staining her dress.  
  
When I woke up I had a killer headache and I couldn't move my arms or legs. At first I was convinced that I was paralyzed, but then I realized I couldn't move because I was bound.  
  
"Rise and shine!" my mother called in a merry voice. "Oh, I've waited so long for this Emaleth. Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled," Mother said, a strange glint in her eyes. She pulled out a small dagger she had been hiding and unsheathed it.  
  
"Mom wait, please don't do this. What did I do that was so wrong, what did Grandma do, and what of Vincent?" I sobbed  
  
"You committed a grave sin against God when you tried to take your life by your own hand. Your grandmother is just as evil. She would have stood in the way of God's servant. Emaleth, I'm just doing what's best for you. Your soul is in great danger, maybe this way you will have a chance to be cleansed.  
  
"Mother, did you kill my father?"  
  
"Of course," She said in a matter of fact tone. "Killed him and Elizabeth. They were both guilty of the sin of lust and adultery. God judged them unfit to live on His earth."  
  
"No," I said. "God didn't judge them, you did. Just as you judged Grandma and are now judging me. What gives you the right? You're not God. You used God as an excuse to enact your revenge. Anger is a deadly sin and so is jealousy, you've committed--"  
  
"No!" she screamed, "I'm good! I didn't do anything wrong. I am doing what God told me to. I--" She stopped her tirade suddenly and looked at me with murder in her eyes. "I don't want to hear another word out--" she stopped suddenly and her eyes grew wide she turned around and behind her stood Vincent, a grim look on his face. Mother fell to her knees and I could now see the butcher knife in her back.  
  
"Your just like him, Emaleth, just like him," Mother said before collapsing.  
  
"Let me untie you. We should call the police or something," Vincent said in a somber voice as he untied me.  
  
"We can't, Mother tool a phone off the hook somewhere in the house. Who knows how long it will take to find it."  
  
"Well then we can go to a neighbor's house and use their phone," he said.  
  
"No way, I've seen way too many scary movies where you leave the body and when you come back with the authorities it's gone. There is no way I want my mother on the louse," I said determined to get my way.  
  
"Well it doesn't matter cause I think I found the phone," he said. He pointed towards Mother's old-fashioned ivory telephone, which was off the hook. I was still a little dizzy from the blow to the head, so Vincent called the police for me.  
  
After what seemed like hours, but in reality couldn't have been more than ten minutes, the police arrived along with an ambulance. They loaded Mother on a stretcher and took Vincent and I to the hospital. 


	7. Over and Out

Over and Out  
  
Two years have passed since the day my mother tried to kill me. My mother didn't die that day, turns out it takes more then a butcher knife to kill her. She is now in a hospital for the criminally insane. I visited her once but she wasn't very happy to see me, and seeing her just upset me, so I haven't been back.  
  
Mother died two years later due to a stroke. I am now twenty-one and live in an apartment in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Vincent and I have been roomies for over a year now and we are really good friends. The Morlet fortune was turned over to me when Mother died, so I want for nothing. I take that back, I want the nightmares to go away, but I don't think money can buy peace of mind.  
  
  
  
Well... That's it. Part one is now finished! I've been thinking about doing a sequal… Emaleth and Vincent become more than good friends… Vincent's birth mother may return among other surprises. What do you all think? I'm a feedback whore so if you give me a little I'd be more than happy to return the favor! 


End file.
